times a month until her life changes for the better and takes her away.
I sit, sipping my beer and watching her sing up on stage while playing the guitar. She looks completely at ease. The bright spotlight is shining down on her, making her sweaty skin glisten. But she doesn’t seem hot or tired. She looks energized. After putting on such a show, how can she still look like this? She’s smiling and having a hell of a time up there. That’s something about artists I don’t understand. They’re not like normal people. Maybe that’s why my body craves her. She’s a nice break from the stuffy lawyers I’m usually around. She hasn’t conformed to the expectations of society. She does her own thing, and that in itself is a nice change of pace for someone like me, a rule-follower. The two of us are so different. At first I wondered how this could even work, but now I know it’s because she’s the balance I need.
The show wraps up and the band makes their way off stage. The dance floor starts to clear—everyone going back to their table or to stand around the bar for another drink. A few people linger, now gathered into groups to talk and hang out. As expected, Luna comes out while leaving the guys to pack up. She’s smiling wide and walking quickly in my direction—that is, until she notices Wesley sitting across from me. Her smile falls and she momentarily pauses before forcing herself to finish the walk.
“Hey,” I say with a grin as I look up at her. Her skin is flushed with a light sheen of sweat. Her makeup is smeared and her hair is a mess, but she’s drop-dead sexy and has my body doing things it shouldn’t be doing in a crowded bar.
“Hey,” she replies, sliding next to me in the booth. “Wesley,” she addresses him.
“How’ve ya been, Lulu?” He gives her a smile. Now I see that the smile he gives her isn’t flirting. He knows that name gets under her skin and he enjoys doing it.
“Perfect. What are you doing here?” She leans on the table but sits back when the bartender brings a drink over to her. “Thanks,” she says quietly, looking up at the bartender as she holds the drink in her hand.
Wesley shrugs. “I was told to see if you guys were ready for the meeting on Monday.”
“And?”
He nods. “I think you are. You been practicing a lot lately? I swear, every time I hear you, you get better and better.”
She nods as she takes a sip. “Yeah, we’ve been practicing every night we don’t have a show.”
“It shows.” He drops his hand down onto the table as he pushes himself up. “Well, guess I’ll go now that the show is over. Oh, Lu . . .” he says, pausing, “if the meeting goes well on Monday, there will be a party that evening. I don’t want to jinx anything, but see you there.” He offers up a smile before finally taking off.
She lets out a long breath and relaxes in her seat. She looks over at me. “Want to go to a party?” she asks, looking up at me with a sweet smile. “So you can keep Wesley away from me? He’s impossible to dodge on my own.”
It makes me wonder if what he told me earlier was all a bunch of lies, or if Luna’s just trying to keep me by her side. Either way, I wouldn’t miss a chance to hang out with her, so I agree.
“How are you feeling about this meeting on Monday?” I ask, watching her as I take a sip of my beer.
She stirs her drink with a small red straw. “I feel okay, but I’m still nervous. It’s nerve-wracking having all that pressure on you, you know? Like if I fuck up a chord progression or miss a line in the lyrics, I could ruin it for everyone.”
“Nah, just don’t think of it like that. You’ve brought the band this far. I have no doubt you can drive it home.”
She gives me a shy smile, but I’m not sure if she believes my words. Either way, I don’t push. She can obviously handle some stress and nervousness based on the fact that she comes out here almost every night and performs in front of these crowds.
We’re in the middle of a conversation when some guy makes his way to our table. “Luna, you’re so awesome. Can